


Maple Candy

by ria_oaks



Category: due South
Genre: Community: ds_c6d_bigbang, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-27
Updated: 2011-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 23:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/166090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ria_oaks/pseuds/ria_oaks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray gets a taste of real Canadian maple syrup. Silliness ensues. Written for the ds_c6d_bigbang Art Challenge/reverse mini-bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maple Candy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ds_c6d_bigbang [Art Challenge/reverse mini-bang](http://community.livejournal.com/ds_c6d_bigbang/46818.html), as a response to [this drawing.](http://community.livejournal.com/ds_c6d_bigbang/46818.html?thread=670434#t670434)

He should have seen this coming. Really, Fraser reflected, in retrospect he had no one to blame but himself.

It all started late one night at the Consulate. Ray had come over to discuss their latest case, and they ended up working late into the night. At a little after midnight, Ray looked up and announced that he needed pancakes. Fraser protested, reminding Ray that pancakes were hardly a suitable snack at this time of night, but Ray just gave him an incredulous look.

“Seriously, you’ve never made pancakes at midnight?”

“Well, no, Ray. I do occasionally indulge in them for breakfast, but it’s not healthy to eat something so heavy right before going to bed.”

“It’s a good thing we’ve still got a couple of hours left of work to do, then. Come on Fraser, pancakes at midnight are like… an American tradition or something.”

Which Fraser rather doubted, but often it was easier simply to go along with Ray at times like these.

“There are eggs in the fridge and the flour’s in the bottom cupboard, then, if you insist. Let me know if you need help finding anything else.”

“Awesome.” Ray took off towards the kitchen, and Fraser returned to the case notes, shaking his head.

Ten minutes of Fraser wincing at every loud bang and crash from the kitchen later, Ray re-appeared in the doorway. There was flour dusting the front of his t-shirt, an unidentifiable smudge on his cheek, and what looked like batter in his hair (which was sticking up in every direction possible). Fraser fought down the wave of affection that swelled in him at the sight. This wasn’t the time to be thinking inappropriate thoughts about his friend and partner.

“You got any syrup in this place, Frase?”

Fraser blinked, still distracted by his traitorous thoughts. “Ah, yes. It’s in the cupboard above the fridge.”

“Thanks.” Ray disappeared again.

What had just happened? Fraser shook himself, his mind finally clearing, and then remembered. Oh, dear. Syrup. He waited with a certain amount of apprehension for Ray to return. Maybe Ray wouldn’t say anything, would just take it in stride as another strange Canadian custom… or assume the syrup belonged to Turnbull, which might actually be an effective cover story if he asked.

No such luck. The sound of Ray laughing floated out from the kitchen, and then he appeared again a moment later holding the syrup bottle up and regarding Fraser with an amused look.

“Okay, seriously? What the hell? Do you Canadians really need to put a maple leaf on everything?”

Fraser could feel his hand lifting unconsciously to thumb his eyebrow, and he forcefully lowered it. “I could say the same about Americans and the stars and stripes,” he pointed out.

Ray just kept looking at him, eyebrows raised. Fraser sighed. “It’s just a souvenir, really. Most Canadians don’t even use real maple syrup. It’s quite a bit more expensive and is more commonly found in tourist shops than in grocery stores.”

“Which is why it’s in a bottle shaped like a maple leaf.” Ray nodded. “Okay, I get that, but why do you have it here?”

A dozen excuses ran through Fraser’s mind, from the Turnbull story to the syrup being the property of the Consulate itself, but he suspected Ray would see through each of them.

“It’s… well, it’s mine. There’s a store on 12th that sells imported foods, I was there buying some supplies for a dinner the Consulate was holding in honour of a dignitary from –” He could sense Ray’s impatience growing. “That’s not important. Anyway, I saw this, and…” he trailed off and looked down, feeling embarrassed. It seemed silly now.

“You were homesick.”

Fraser looked back up, startled. Ray was looking at him with sympathy and understanding, and his voice was surprisingly gentle.

“It’s silly, really. I was just being sentimental.”

“Nah, I get it.” Ray grinned, and the mood lightened once again. “Come on, let’s have some pancakes. With real Canadian maple syrup. Since we are in Canada, after all.”

Fraser chuckled and followed Ray into the kitchen. He supposed he could make an exception just this one time. He was quite hungry, anyway.

Ray grabbed two plates and piled the pancakes onto them, then drenched his in enough maple syrup to make Fraser’s teeth hurt. Fraser drizzled a more modest amount onto his own pancakes, then poured them both some water and sat down at the table.

“Never had the real stuff before,” Ray commented as he cut up his pancakes and speared a syrupy piece on his fork. “Here goes, then.” He popped the piece in his mouth. After a moment, his eyes went wide, and then they closed and an expression of bliss spread over his face.

“Damn,” Ray said after he’d swallowed. “I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me all this time. And here I was thinking that Canadian food was all pemmican and caribou stew!”

“I’m glad you like it, Ray,” Fraser smiled and took a bite of his own pancakes. Ray had done a good job; they were delicious.

“Like it? Jesus, this stuff’s amazing! Where did you say that store was?” Ray took another bite, and the blissful expression returned to his face, this time accompanied by sounds that were frankly rather obscene. Fraser couldn’t take his eyes off of him. Ray’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and his tongue swept out to lick his lips. A cold sweat broke out over Fraser and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Fraser?” Ray was looking at him quizzically, and Fraser devoutly hoped that he hadn’t noticed anything odd.

“Ah yes, right, the store.” Fraser described the location in more detail and tried not to stare as Ray continued to eat with far too much enthusiasm. This was getting ridiculous. He should not be getting aroused simply from watching his friend eat pancakes. He needed to get control over himself again. Shaking himself, he focused on his own pancakes.

After a few minutes, Ray mentioned something about the case. Fraser grasped at the distraction, and the remainder of the night was devoted to discussing the most likely suspects for the murder of Mr. Davis.

\-----

His first mistake, Fraser decided, had been introducing Ray to real maple syrup in the first place. The second mistake had been giving him the name of the store. A few days after that night, Ray arrived to pick Fraser up for lunch with a wide smile on his face.

“You didn’t tell me that there’s candy, too!” Ray exclaimed before Fraser had even gotten his seatbelt on. He had clearly been bursting to say this and had only barely been able to wait for Fraser to get Dief settled in the back.

Fraser blinked.

“Pardon?”

“Maple syrup candy! I went to that store this morning, and look what I bought!” Ray gestured to a plastic bag on the middle seat.

Fraser opened the bag with a vague and indefinable sense of dread. Sure enough, in the bag were the same bottle of syrup that Fraser had bought and a large box of maple sugar candies. Also shaped like little maple leafs. And already opened with several candies missing.

“You know these are pure sugar, Ray.”

“Yeah, your point is?” Ray’s grin widened.

“Aside from the inevitable damage to your teeth, they have absolutely no nutritional value, and – no, Diefenbaker, you may not have any!” He gave Dief, who was leaning over the seat and nosing hopefully at the bag, a stern look.

Ray laughed. “The wolf likes them too, huh? Can’t blame him.”

“Maple candy is very unhealthy for him, Ray – as it is for you, I might add – so I would thank you not to encourage him.”

“What can I say, Frase. He’s clearly got taste. These things are incredible! I still can’t believe you never told me about them!”

Fraser glanced over at Ray, who was practically thrumming with energy, his fingers tapping out a beat on the steering wheel and his left leg positively bouncing as he drove. He was starting to realize just why he had never thought to tell Ray about maple candy.

“Pass another one over, will ya?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Fraser responded firmly. He shut the box and put the plastic bag on the floor at his feet.

“Aww, come on! I’ve only had a couple!”

“By my count there are at least four candies missing from the box, and I presume you’ve also had coffee this morning.”

“I’m fine, really! Just one more?”

“No, Ray.”

“Hrmph. Fine, have it your way.”

They drove in silence for a few minutes, and Ray almost seemed to be calming down. Then the tapping started up again, followed by the leg bouncing, and soon Ray was practically squirming in his seat. Fraser sighed. This was going to be a long lunch.

\-----

If Fraser had thought that was the end of it, just one box of candies to get it out of Ray’s system, then he was sorely mistaken. Several weeks went by, and Ray appeared to have an endless supply of maple candy on hand. He was clearly trying to hide it from Fraser, but Fraser kept seeing the familiar red and orange box flashing out of sight whenever Ray saw him looking. And he was certain that Ray had ignored his warning and given several to Dief, who had proceeded to be violently ill later that evening in the front hall of the Consulate.

Furthermore, the constant intake of sugar was turning Ray, already full of restless energy at the best of times, into a hyperactive child who just would not. Stop. Moving. He had gone from having difficulty staying still for long periods to being utterly incapable of doing so for even a minute, before he would jump up and start pacing or shadow boxing or tapping or… Normally Fraser mostly enjoyed his partner’s seemingly limitless well of energy, which contrasted so sharply with his own tendency towards stillness, but he didn’t think he could take much more of this.

When Fraser caught Ray dropping the candies into his coffee one day, he knew it was time to do something.

“Ray, you have to stop.”

Ray jumped, only just avoiding spilling coffee on himself. In an instant, the box of candies had disappeared behind his kitchen counter.

“What are you talking about?”’

“You know what I’m talking about. How many boxes have you gone through in the past week alone?”

“What’s it to you, anyway?” Ray grabbed his coffee and walked around the counter and Fraser to the couch.

“It’s not healthy, and it’s become an addiction. And, quite frankly, all that sugar is affecting you in, well…”

“I can stop anytime I want! And I don’t know what you mean about the sugar affecting me.” Ray looked mutinous. His left leg was also jittering uncontrollably, although he didn’t appear to have noticed.

“You’re like a five year old child who just raided a candy store! Look at you, you’re practically vibrating off the  
couch right now!”

“Am not,” Ray muttered, then immediately contradicted himself by bouncing up and heading back towards the kitchen. Fraser couldn’t quite supress a sigh as he followed Ray around the counter. Ray, predictably, had gone straight for the box of maple candy.

“Give me the box, Ray.”

“Nuh uh, don’t want to.” Ray opened the box and shook one candy into his hand, holding it up and waving it in front of Fraser’s face.

“Ray for heaven’s sake, stop acting like a child! This is ridiculous.”  
Ray grinned at him, a spark of challenge in his eyes. “You want it? Come and get it.” And he popped the candy into his mouth.

Fraser gaped at him. What exactly was Ray playing at? Surely he couldn’t mean...

“Come on Frase, you know you want to.” Ray pushed the candy out with his tongue and held it between his teeth. He leaned back against the counter and spread his arms wide.

Fraser could only stare at him. The look on Ray’s face could only be described as heated, and Fraser began to allow himself to hope. Maybe his feelings weren’t so one-sided after all. Ray was positively exuding desire and sensuality, his body leaning provocatively again the counter and his tongue licking out around the edges of the candy. Unable to help himself, Fraser’s gaze flickered down briefly. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, as his eyes took in the visible bulge of Ray’s arousal. He looked back up again and met Ray’s eyes. Ray’s grin widened and he spread his legs slightly. There was no mistaking the invitation.

With a growl, Fraser launched himself forward and brought their lips together in a desperate kiss. The taste of maple sugar exploded on his tongue as he pushed into Ray’s mouth, and he closed his teeth around the offending candy. Ray groaned against his mouth and reached up to bury his hands in Fraser’s hair.

They traded the candy back and forth as it dissolved, and gradually the overpowering taste of maple was replaced by a taste that could only be uniquely Ray’s. Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray and pulled him closer. He could feel Ray’s hardness pressing against his own through their jeans and he instinctively thrust forward.

Ray broke off the kiss with a gasp. “God, Fraser. Do that again.”

Fraser buried his head in Ray’s neck and chuckled. His tongue flicked out to taste Ray’s skin and he rocked his hips forward again. Ray groaned and thrust back, before tugging Fraser back up for another brief kiss.

“It’s about damned time, Frase. What took you so long?” Ray’s fingers trailed down to rest at the back of Fraser’s neck, just above his collar.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Fraser countered. “I had no idea that you felt the same way.”

“I’ve been giving you signals for weeks! You seriously didn’t notice?” He looked chagrined.

“Signals? When?” Fraser considered for a moment. “Wait, that night with the maple syrup… were you doing that on purpose?”

“What, practically having an orgasm over maple syrup? You just figured that out, huh?” Ray smirked and Fraser felt himself blushing against his own volition.

“Well, I must admit I was surprised at how… sensual an experience eating pancakes seemed to be for you.”

“And you were enjoying the show.”

“I didn’t realize you could tell,” Fraser admitted. He felt somewhat embarrassed to have been caught out like that, although in the end he supposed he couldn’t complain. He idly stroked Ray’s sides, tugging Ray’s t-shirt up to brush against bare skin.

“Hard to miss,” Ray gasped. “Way you were staring at me and all.”

Fraser flushed slightly and changed the subject. “And the maple candy? How was that supposed to be a signal?”

“You’re kidding? Well first off, it worked, in case you didn’t notice.” He pressed a kiss to Fraser’s lips as if to prove the point.

“So you were trying to provoke me this entire time?” Fraser thought that he should have been annoyed at the ruse, but the truth was he felt far too grateful.

“Well, that and I really like maple candy.”

Fraser laughed. “I’m still cutting you off.”

“Aww, come on!”

“Well, maybe a couple of candies a day,” Fraser relented. “But no more.”

“I suppose I can live with that. I’d much prefer to be sucking on you than some candy, anyway,” Ray added with a leer.

“I think we could arrange that.” Fraser grinned and kissed the shocked expression off Ray’s face.

“Dirty Mountie, heh. I like it.”

“I’m glad you approve.” Fraser leaned in and kissed Ray again, slowly this time, and that was the last they said for quite a while.

In the end, Fraser reflected, maybe introducing Ray to maple candy hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.


End file.
